Achilles' Heel
by Tako Phin
Summary: A king, too, is weak.
**AN: Somehow came up with this while working on _Prince of Cowardice_. Since I'm still working on that one, enjoy this in its stead~**

* * *

Disease was Yukimura's weakness. For a presence seemingly so ethereal that he was nicknamed 'Child of God', not even he was not spared from illness. As it happened, none of those strength he had exhibited in tennis mattered. His life was tethering on edge. The captain, ace and pillar of Rikkaidai was _dying_.

"I'm sorry to bother you" Yukimura told his teammates with a radiant smile in every single one of their visits.

Even in weakness, a king must demonstrate strength. No one was to see how sick he was to be confined in this immaculate cage with its pungent scent that promised life yet failed to deliver. No one was to know how sick he was of forcing upon his best friend Sanada the burden that was supposed to be _his_. It's pathetic, really, that even in sickness he was to be the symbol of strength.

He tried. He really tried. Yukimura would smile so brilliantly he did not even look sick. I won't give up, he assured them every single time. Then the door closed and he was back in the company of loneliness he screeched and howled till his voice box creaked and tried to rip his sheets, anything, apart but was too _WEAK_ to do so.

This flickering flame in him, he wanted to extinguish it, ending this misery that he was forcing onto everyone. He mulled and contemplated and considered and despaired over it, but he could never do it. His friends and family had suffered so much just to keep a spark of his flame alive. As much as they loathed the banter of fake reassurance, the empty promise, it was the only thin thread they could cling onto, for both Yukimura and the people whom he cared about.

He had tried so hard to never be a burden to anyone. He was the best tennis player in school. He accomplished plenty achievements to make his family proud. He took responsibility as a leader of the team. He was kind and helpful to everyone he knew.

All were undone by a simple disease.

Yukimura was forced to fight a losing match where not even ending his life could bring him to victory.

* * *

Being weak was Sanada's weakness. He had taken it upon himself to carry Yukimura's responsibility on his shoulder. With an iron fist he endeavored, blood sweat and tears, to keep the kingdom fit awaiting the return of the king.

But no amount of strength could fill in the void left by the king. Sanada could never be as powerful as Yukimura, not in tennis ability, and not in leadership capability. The comparison was one of blue flame and red flame. No matter how great the red flame was, it could never be as hot.

He was too weak to even provide his friend just the knowledge that his team was under good hands during his absence. He could not even _comfort_ a friend, bring him a peace of mind.

He could see it during his weekly visits, the emptiness in Yukimura's eyes. Sanada tried his best to filter his reports to only reflect the accomplishments, not because he did not want to be seen as weak. Yukimura would always give him a gentle smile, and Sanada never failed to notice the quiver of frustration on his lips, or the darkness swirling in those cerulean orbs. Sanada failed miserably each and every week.

"We will wait for your return undefeated."

When Sanada made that vow, he only had Yukimura in mind, and how he hoped this would allow him to ease his worries. What he had not thought was how empty those words were. Things were not the same without Yukimura no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Rikkaidai had a huge weak spot. Sanada was too _weak_ to cover for it.

The best he could do was to cling onto the promise he had made with tenacity that could even bring the dead back to life. He did not want to shatter the glass wall he himself had made to protect Yukimura. He could never forgive himself.

But he knew it was only a matter of time. Unable to look back, his only option was to stride forward, leading the group to its inevitable demise with as much strength as he could muster.

* * *

His strength was Yanagi's weakness. He had a mind so acute he could see beyond the superficiality of human words and expression. He could see the symptoms of Seiichi's illness. He knew what type of leadership was needed in Seiichi's stead. He was aware of the responsibility choking Genichirou.

Yet there was nothing he could do about it.

Knowledge does not transfer to action, of all people Yanagi was most aware of that. Yanagi could see the despair behind Seiichi's smile or the hesitation behind Genichirou's action. He wanted to take away every potentially lethal item in Seiichi's room. He wanted to tell Genichirou not to be so concerned with victory and the team and focus more on his own well being.

He wanted to tell them that he _knew_ , but his words would be lost on deaf ears. The path of the king is lonely. They had to overcome their ordeals on their own. In the sphere of knowledge, he was trapped and forced to watch quietly the destruction around him.

All the things he was capable of doing amounted to nothing and everything at the same time. His best course of action was to simply be there, a reassuring presence on the sideline to fall back on.

He placed his faith in Seiichi to keep his own flame ablaze. If Genichirou did so through a vow, Yanagi did it through covering Seiichi's cold, bony fingers with his hand. He tried not to think about the possible hazards in the room.

He supported every decision Genichirou made, good and bad. Every time he saw the hesitation flickering in Genichirou's eyes, Yanagi would gently place his hand over Genichirou's, a small gesture to tell him that he was not in this alone. He kept his suggestions to a minimum. He did not want Genichirou to beat himself up more than he was already doing.

"Hit me, Genichirou. Use me to set an example to the team."

How ironic that for the first time he was able to step out of his sphere, when he could actually do something, his first action was to deal a lethal blow to everything they had been trying so hard to maintain.

He should have known better. He _did_ know better. It's just…

No. He had no excuse. If Seiichi was rendered weak by destiny and Genichirou was too weak to be Seiichi, Yanagi was too weak to even _try_ to do something. He could not even get himself punished for his mistake.

Seiichi screamed and yelled in frustration until his voice ran out. Genichirou ordered his teammates, himself included to slap him as hard as they could.

Yanagi retreated back into his sphere and let the guilt ate him alive.

* * *

 **About the pair: It's not troika. It's YukimuraxSanada and Yanagi *sobs***  
 **The original idea was to compare them to flames. If Yukimura is blue flame, Sanada is red flame, and Yanagi is the hand that tries to keep the flame alive.**


End file.
